


The Only Person I’ve Ever Truly Loved

by Papapaldi



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 23:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papapaldi/pseuds/Papapaldi
Summary: Dave has been waiting over twenty years to see Klaus again, but he’ll have to wait thirty more before he will even recognise him.Dave had been lost for so long, drifting through purgatory, a place his waking soul couldn’t comprehend – until he’d seen the boy. A child, pulling spirits forth from all their lonely planes, drawn to him like a beacon, a beacon of sense and reality that their lost souls hadn’t known in so long. He’d seen him, scrawny and pale and wild, he’d thought that maybe it was a son, maybe even a grandson, but of course it wasn’t. Of course there’d been something more to Klaus Hargreeves, the man who’d come dancing into his life and changed it forever





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made a video edit because of feels I got writing this fic, check it out [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVdRY5KLLr0&feature=youtu.be)

Back in Vietnam, Klaus had always been secretive about his life before the war. He remembered waking in the middle of the night to gunshots and barked orders from his superiors – there he’d been, bright eyed and dishevelled, covered in blood and confused beyond belief. Looking back, it was obvious that he didn’t belong there, that he’d dropped in from another place, another time. He always said the strangest things, but Dave had always just chalked that up to him being a strange man. Dave had never pressed him for details, plenty of the other soldiers wanted to forget about the lives they’d led before the war. He remembered the way that Klaus would talk to himself, would hold his head and shiver in the night as if he had one foot dipped into the surface of another world. He walked a tightrope between madness and wonder, between beauty and strangeness, and Dave loved him.

Dave had been lost for so long, drifting through purgatory, a place his waking soul couldn’t comprehend – until he’d seen the boy. A child, pulling spirits forth from all their lonely planes, drawn to him like a beacon, a beacon of sense and reality that their lost souls hadn’t known in so long. He’d seen him, scrawny and pale and wild, he’d thought that maybe it was a son, maybe even a grandson, but of course it wasn’t. Of course there’d been something more to Klaus Hargreeves, the man who’d come dancing into his life and changed it forever. The man who held that dark, supernatural edge, as if he didn’t belong.

He flocked to him, like everyone else, the boy at the academy. The walls were plastered with papers and scratched with inky scrawls, and Dave was overjoyed to see him again, even like this. He was wrapped up in his sheets, sleeping, no more than seven or eight, and Dave couldn’t help but stare. Then, a most unexpected thing had happened. When the boy opened his eyes, he stared back.

...

Klaus saw soldiers all the time. Some had chunks blown out of their heads, were poisoned by gas, killed off by infection, illness, or just regular old bullets. He didn’t mind them passing through as long as they left him alone, stayed quiet, stayed away. This one was doing a terrible job of that.

He’d been standing in the corner of his bedroom all morning. He’d been there when Klaus woke up for training in the early hours, and he’d found him examining the writing on the walls when he returned. Klaus averted his eyes, he couldn’t blame them for being curious, especially when he was the one (though unintentionally) pulling them here from broader planes. He still hadn’t left, even now, as Klaus sat at his desk scribbling away on a notepad. He was drawing all of them – his brothers and sister – as real superheroes, like their father promised they’d become someday. For now, they had to be contented being holed up in the academy, training together and assisting their father with his research. Klaus was seven years old, and his father had yet to test the full extent of his abilities. For now, the dead waltzed in and out of his life as they pleased, but they were hardly ever hostile, hardly ever overwhelming. His father warned him that they would become more difficult to deal with as his powers matured with him, but the promise of future pain wasn’t something worried himself with, instead, he was worried about drawing Diego throwing knives at bad guys, just as he’d requested.

He saw the ghostly soldier shifting in his peripheral, it seemed as if he was trying to covertly move closer.

“You can see it if you want,” Klaus said, not looking up from his drawing, “it’s not finished though.” The man didn’t answer, but Klaus heard him move up behind him and look over his shoulder. Klaus leant back so that he could see the picture. “See, that’s me there,” he pointed at one of the figures on the page with pride. “I’m using my super powers to talk to these dead people” – he indicated a couple of crudely drawn, smiling skeletons next to the boy – “and they’re going to help us fight.” Klaus looked up at the soldier, who was nodding patiently. He’d tried to show his father one of his drawings once, but he’d waved him away without a second glance, and later he’d received a lecture about giving up on such ‘childish frivolities.’ This man was much nicer. “Here’s my brother Ben, he’s grabbing that bad guy with his monster tentacles, and there’s Diego, he’s going to be throwing knives at them but I haven’t finished that part yet.” Klaus looked up at the soldier again, smiling expectantly.

“It’s really good, I’m sure your brothers will love it,” he smiled kindly.

“I have a sister too, you know, two of them actually, but Dad says Vanya can’t be a superhero like the rest of us.”

“Well maybe you could draw her in too, if she’s feeling left out. Maybe she could cheer for you?”

“That’s a great idea, she’ll be so happy,” Klaus smiled. He started humming something and went back to the drawing, eye brows furrowed in almost comical concentration, swinging his legs back and forth under the desk. The soldier chuckled lightly, staying close by. “My name is Klaus, by the way,” he piped up, still sketching away, “what’s your name.”

The man hesitated for a moment, before admitting, “I – I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay, lot’s of dead people don’t remember their names, or how they died. Sometimes they’re lost. Do you remember how you died?”

“I was… in a war,” his voice had gone quiet, hollow, trying to remember old and painful things.

“I could tell from your uniform, it looks so cool!” Klaus said, to which the soldier grinned broadly. The dead didn’t smile often. “You know,” he added, thoughtful, “I could put you in the picture too if you want, you could fight bad guys with the skeletons.”

He chuckled, “you know, I’d like that.”

Klaus beamed back. “You can stay here for a while if you like, I don’t know if I’ll finish the whole drawing today.”

“That’s alright,” he sighed, “I think I’ve stayed here too long already.”

“Oh,” he seemed a little disappointed, “okay then, see you round.”

“Yeah,” he said, and stepped away into the air.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave struggles to help Klaus as he is forced to face the terrifying truth of his powers.

It was a strange thing to watch the person he loved grow up. To watch the person he knew take root and develop, the signature phrases, the strange mannerisms, the things that he used to love about him starting to take shape.

Dave wondered what would happen if he got too close, too often. The Klaus he’d met in Vietnam hadn’t recognised him, and if he had, he didn’t show it. Dave didn’t see Klaus as being capable of that sort of deception. As nice as it would have been to become a sort of ‘imaginary friend’ to him, and help him through the tough and lonely times he knew were ahead, he also knew that such an act could have disastrous consequences. It wasn’t as if Dave cared much for the time continuum, he was dead after all, he just didn’t want to jeopardise the beautiful - though tragically short - future they would share. So, he kept his distance most of the time, even as he watched the boy’s power begin to strengthen, hurting him more and more.

It was less than a year after their first encounter when Klaus' father sent him to the mausoleum for the first time. It was difficult to think of that cold, indifferent man as anyone’s father, let alone those seven, hopeful children. Klaus loved him, they all did, and would do anything to get just a sliver of pride or approval. Klaus had been having nightmares often, had been becoming increasingly hesitant to call forth spirits as they started to come more often, in greater numbers, bearing more malice. Reginald’s grand solution was to throw him into a graveyard, a place that housed the most ancient and resentful of spirits, and he was terrified. Even Dave couldn’t go near a place like that, such old creatures, so dark and rotten and twisted beyond anything human. He hoped he’d never become one of them. Every blackened creature from every unknown plane came slinking out of non-existence, converging on the boy. He, who lived and perceived at the spinning centre of all worlds. He was their chance to be heard again, an anchor point to the world they used to know. They were desperate, even Dave was beginning to feel as such – a deep and desperate longing to walk within the world again, whole, tangible, alive. All he could do was watch as Klaus, an eight-year-old child, was forced to come to terms with the true extent of his power, and the twisted life he would have to live unless he conquered the near insurmountable task of mastering it.

The boy that arrived back at the academy after that first trip was different to the one Dave had spoken to less than a year earlier – he was pale, shivering, nursing self-inflicted scratch marks that ran along the sides of his face and his forearms. His mouth was pressed tightly shut, and the hopeful, excited child who dreamed of becoming a superhero was gone. Dave couldn’t turn away.

Klaus was huddled under his blankets in the corner of his bed, shaking. It was almost morning. “Are you alright?” Dave asked, tentatively stepping towards the bed. He needed Klaus to know that he wasn’t alone – but then again, that was sort of the problem. He was never alone. In that moment, Dave was just another one of the many, desperate voices trying to burrow inside his head.

“Just go away,” he whimpered, voice wracked with small sobs. “Why can’t you all just go away, just be quiet,” he grabbed his head in his hands, pressing his palms hard against his eyes, “be quiet, be quiet, be quiet,” he whispered. Dave stepped back, saddened. He couldn’t help him, he realised, only the living could remind him of the world in which he belonged. Even if he waited, Dave realised, even if he waited over twenty more years to see a Klaus that knew who he was, he would never be enough for him. Their time was over, it had ended nearly thirty years ago on the battlefield. There was no future for him here, not here or anywhere. The child quivering on the bed had a future, it would be gruelling, painful, lonely and unbearably crowded all at the same time. Watching it all unfold, unable to help, would be nearly as painful in itself – but Dave wasn’t about to stop trying.

Klaus struggled over the next few years, as his father dragged him out to the graveyard once a week to ‘face his fear.’ Missions were always difficult for him, when the people the other children had killed found their way back to him, vengeful. He kept his little world a secret from the others, and though they tried to comfort him when he was in the worst of it, they could never quite understand his pain. As he grew older, his connection with the dead only strengthened, and the academy became a crowded place to those who could see it. Young Klaus would pass them in the hallways where he chased his siblings, hovering in corners covered in blood, riddled with disease, whispering things. He was kind, and would try to reach out sometimes, but often, he craved a world that was simple, that was real.

He was eleven, and it was his worst graveyard field-trip yet. He’d started sneaking in a music player to try and block out the ghosts, but no matter how loud he blasted the music, the noise barely made a dent in the din of voices that screamed from the inside, echoing in his head. He would always start the night confident, singing along to the music, dancing around the dark and dusty interior – but sooner or later the singing devolved into strangled shouts, into whimpers, then whispers, then thoughts that struggled against the tide. He’d end the night with new scars, with bruises on his head bashed against the wall, stinging eyes, and pulsing ear drums. HIs father always knew the perfect time to leave him in there – always just enough to crack him, a little bit every time, but never enough to shatter.

That was the state that Dave found him in, unable to turn a blind eye any longer. Cracked, but not quite broken. The sun was almost rising. The spirits were retreating, and Dave’s way was clear.

“It’ll be over soon,” Dave offered, standing at the far wall, cautious not to get close enough to startle him. The boy looked up, mouth hanging open, eyes red, face blotched and welted with tears. Klaus’ facial features were beginning to lose that child-like softness that followed them through those early years, and Dave could almost make out those gaunt, hollow cheeks and long face that he remembered.

His voice struggled out through a haggard throat, raspy. “you,” he began, scanning the room for more nightmarish creatures, “you’re not like the rest of them, are you?” He sounded scared.

Dave smiled, the last thing he wanted was to add to the pain that Klaus was feeling. “I like to think so,” he said, “but I suppose it’s only a matter of time.”

Klaus considered him, thoughtful. “You know, I’m not sure that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen ghosts that must’ve died ages ago and they seem fine,” he coughed, sitting up on rigid, quivering joints. “Dad says that, the ones that don’t go bad, they have something left that connects them to the world.”

“Yeah, that seems right,” Dave smiled, “after all, I have –“ _you,_  he thought, “– I still have something.”

Klaus winced a little, pointing at his ears. “I’m sorry but can you just,” he shivered, “can you be quiet, just for a bit, I –“ he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, “your voice is in my head.”

Dave tried not to let the hurt show, because of course, he could never truly help Klaus, not when he was one of the creatures that made his life so miserable. He walked through the mausoleum entrance just as Sir Reginald approached from the other side. That smug look, cold, unfeeling. Dave would give anything just to be corporeal long enough to give him a good punch in the face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison and Klaus are having a girls night (some fluff to follow the previous chapter lol)

“I wanted to have a girl’s night, like the kind they have on those TV shows. You’re supposed to do each other’s nails, eat cookies, talk about boys – that sort of thing.” It was Klaus’ sister Allison. She’d asked him up to her room that evening after his other sister, Vanya, had shyly dodged the question. He loved watching the way Klaus interacted with the brothers and sisters he’d only mentioned in passing remarks, and never elaborated upon when Dave pressed him further. The children were trapped together in a strange situation; all of them simultaneously held in isolation, and pinned under the public spotlight.

Klaus chuckled, “Wait a minute, and you asked Vanya?”

“Well of course I did, she’s the only other girl here.” Allison replied, pulling a glitter-plastered box off the vanity. Inside was an array of makeup supplies, cluttered together in a heap of half-empty tubes and stray clouts of nude powders. 

“I can’t believe I was your second choice when I love literally all of the things you just listed.”

“Actually, I asked Ben first,” she admitted. 

“You what!” He feigned distress, draping his arm over his forehead. Allison giggled, that bubbling, contagious laughter that seemed to spill out of her like sunshine. Dave couldn’t help but grin as well. He was standing in the corner of the room, there were other two, silent observers that lurked on the edge of Klaus’ perception. They were quiet, and easy for Klaus to ignore. Dave didn’t make a habit of these little excursions, and, more often than not, the situations he found weren’t of happy sibling bonding like this. It was nice to see them re-creating some semblance of a normal childhood. 

“Well it’s okay, the two of them are probably down in the library with Five right now, doing whatever it is that they do.”

Klaus stifled a cough, “nerds.” Allison grinned, and pulled out a plastic-wrapped dish from under her bed – a plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies. 

“Well, they don’t get any of these cookies – I asked Mom to make them especially for us, and she put raisins in as well this time.”

“Raisins are a crime, dear sister,” he shook his head solemnly. 

Allison punched his shoulder lightly, “are not.” 

“Are too,” he stuck out his tongue, teasing. 

“Ok, so I wanted to do the eyeliner first, I picked it up from the mall yesterday.” She grabbed an unopened sleek black tube from the box.

“Where’d you get the money for that?” He asked, feigning ignorance, “I know for a fact you spent all of the chore money Mom gave us last week when you bought all those dresses and magazines.”

Alison gave a sly grin, a mischievous look that Klaus loved. “It was on sale, I only had to haggle a little.”

Klaus cleared his throat loudly, “stealing,” he coughed again.

Allison rolled her eyes, “I think Dad would call it… adapting,” she winked. 

“Well I think Dad should go trip over a melon,” he grumbled, trying to suppress a chuckle. Allison raised an eyebrow, he’d have to come up with something more outlandish to get a rise out of her. “See, why can’t I have a power that lets me get discounted make up at the mall? All I get is this guy watching me put on eyeliner,” he pointed at Dave, “no offence man,” he added. Dave was surprised that he’d even noticed him there. Klaus had gotten better at ignoring the ghosts when he was around his siblings. He didn’t want to give them any cause for concern.

“None taken,” David replied, simply. 

“Ghost?” Allison asked. He nodded, and she was glad to see that he wasn’t distressed. Allison worried about him all the time, that far-off look in his eyes, that deep, churning terror that seemed to follow him everywhere. She wanted him to know that he was safe. There were times when he’d be so overwhelmed by their voices, their demands, that his siblings would yell into thin air for them to go away. They might’ve felt a little crazy doing it, but Klaus was always grateful. Sometimes, the ghosts even listened. 

Dave stood there, shifting in and out of existence as Klaus’ attention waned, watching as Allison meticulously applied the eyeliner. She was gentle, and Klaus actually kept his mouth shut long enough for her to finish the job. “Ok,” she muttered, “I think you’re all set.” 

Klaus blinked and suppressed the urge to reach up and touch his face. “Feels itchy,” he admitted.

“Here,” she held up a mirror to his face. Klaus posed, angling his face in every direction, winking at himself. Allison laughed. He stood up and grabbed a pink feather boa that was slung around the door nob. 

“Alright Allison, how do I look,” he spun around with it draped over his shoulders. He winked and blew a kiss at her, and she doubled over with laughter. He put one foot up on the bed, hands on his hips. He whispered in that way that twelve-year olds think is seductive, “I heard a rumour –“

“Stop it,” she forced out between fits of laughter, “you’re putting my looks to shame!” 

He laughed and got down from the bed, swishing the feather boa around in the air. “You know, when you become a famous movie star you have to let me be in all your photoshoots.”

“But of course,” she said, with only a hint of sarcasm, “we’ll be a famous modelling duo.” So this was where he found his footing, Dave thought, the man who somehow managed to wear eyeliner and a cropped military vest in the trenches of Vietnam. It was sort of impressive, actually. 

“What about you,” Klaus said, looking towards Dave again, still swishing the feather boa around in circles “what do you think?” There it was, the way he held himself, light and whimsical, as if he were floating through the air. Dave was reminded painfully of the man he’d lost, and the one that this boy would become. 

He grinned, “tell her she did a great job on the eyeliner.” 

“Well, there you go Allison,” she looked at him, confused, “this dead guy thinks you did great on the makeup.”

“Err, thanks,” she said, unsure. She beckoned Klaus to sit down, “come on, I have to do your nails too.” Klaus grinned and sat eagerly on the bed, crosslegged with his arms outstretched. 

Seeping in and out of his life, a spirit in between the world, Dave saw all the things that made Klaus into the man he would eventually become. He saw him bond with his sister Allison over shopping and fashion, saw him train alongside his siblings, always trying to make them laugh, even at his own expense. He saw him with his brother Ben, who was the only one that understood what it was like to have a power that was terrible as well as great, that was a burden more than it was a gift. He saw him beginning to rebel more and more against his father, saw him kissing a boy round the back of the academy after one of their little victory parades. And then, he got a little carried away with one of his cat-walk routines while wearing some ridiculous high heels. He fell down the staircase and cracked his jaw open on the polished marble of the entrance hall. 

That moment changed Klaus’ life forever – and not just because he had his usually-talkative mouth wired shut for nearly two months – but because they had him pumped full of painkillers and all sorts of drugs that muddled his thoughts and numbed his emotions. They suppressed his powers. For the first time, Klaus learnt what it truly meant to be alone, and he loved it.


End file.
